Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor-Chapter 288 - 289 – The Birth of the Machine Goddess, A New Enemy?

Chapter 288 - 289 – The Birth of the Machine Goddess, A New Enemy?

Within the Warp.

After Webby entered the orb of divine power, everything went quiet—even her presence could no longer be sensed.

"She's not in danger, right?"

Eden stepped up to the orb, standing side by side with the Emperor, brows furrowed in concern.

Then, his shoulder felt heavy.

A large hand gently patted him.

Eden turned his head—the Emperor looked at him, as if offering silent reassurance.

"Yeah, you're right. With the Emperor here, nothing will happen to Webby..."

He comforted himself, then turned back to the orb, silently waiting.

The two figures stood there in silence—neither spoke a word.

To be honest, Eden wanted to find something to talk about.

It was, after all, the first time he'd seen the Emperor's humanoid form—and the closest he'd ever been to Him.

And two grown men just standing around doing nothing... it was kinda awkward.

If he had a cigarette, he'd probably offer one—you know, to break the ice.

But the Emperor radiated an aura that completely killed conversations. Eden didn't even know how to start.

The awkwardness thickened.

He could easily imagine how it must've felt for the Primarchs, gathering together while the Emperor was in the room.

That silence must've been suffocating.

Who knows how long passed.

Eventually, Eden couldn't help but quietly ask:

"Are you, uh, a bit socially anxious? Like... not much of a talker?"

He looked at the Emperor, gesturing as he spoke:

"Or maybe your body can't speak? We can always chat psychically, you know..."

"Leave."

The Emperor abruptly uttered a single, crystal-clear word.

"...Got it."

Eden took a step to the side and zipped his lips with a hand gesture.

The silence returned.

After a while— freeweɓnøvel.com

The orb of power flared with brilliant light.

New fluctuations and auras rippled across the Warp.

Amid shimmering data streams, Webby's small figure reappeared. The glowing essence was merging into her body.

In that moment, Eden, the Emperor—and even the Chaos Gods—could sense it.

A new Warp entity had been born.

She possessed authority over data and machinery.

She would be known as—the Machine Goddess.

The Chaos Gods didn't care much.

Once the Cursed One seized Vashtorr's power, they had already anticipated this outcome.

Just a fledgling Warp entity—not even close to Vashtorr's former might.

She might help humanity a little, but not enough to shift the balance.

Especially now, when mankind was suffering great hardships and was teetering on the brink.

Even the Cursed One couldn't reverse the tides.

Compared to the immaterial realm of the Warp, the Chaos Gods were more focused on their chaotic invasions in realspace.

That was the source of their true power.

To them, the Cursed One was just a stinking corpse stuck to His throne.

No threat to their expansion into the material universe.

Truth be told, they were more concerned about the Lord Regent. He'd actually caused them some real problems.

Right now, the Chaos Gods were busy using their new powers to create their own daemon technosmiths.

So their domains would have even more Chaos weapons.

Sure, Vashtorr might've made better ones—but from their perspective...

Owning the tech themselves was better.

This way, they didn't have to rely on that greedy arms dealer.

They could expand their arsenals recklessly—

And launch even fiercer invasions into realspace.

When the data shimmer finally faded—

A tall, divine mechanical form hovered in the void. Machine wings glowing with data light stretched wide, and a dragon-like tail swayed behind her.

The Machine Goddess... had descended.

"Damn—what a transformation!"

Eden stared at Webby's new form in awe. She looked like a Warhammer-style mecha girl.

"Father..."

A deep, electronic voice echoed through the void.

Webby had been inside the orb for a while—now that she saw Eden again, a joyful smile lit up her face.

"Ah!"

But the sheer size of her new body—and the strange voice—startled her.

She clearly didn't like her current form.

"J-just give me a moment..."

Panicking a bit, she re-entered the glowing orb. Her form began to shrink, gradually returning to normal size.

"All done!"

Her voice returned to its lively tone. She fluttered her wings and spun in front of Eden:

"How do I look?"

Eden gave her a thumbs up: "Awesome. Way better than before!"

Now, Webby looked more alive than ever—and her appearance had also changed.

She now had a tiny mechanical halo above her head.

Kind of like a Warhammer-mech version of Paimon.

"Hehe, I'm way stronger than before! Check this out!"

Webby placed her hands on her hips and began showcasing her new powers.

Seeing this, Eden smiled too.

Webby's transformation into the true Machine Goddess was great news—for both the Imperium and their territory.

At the very least, communications wouldn't be plagued with eerie whispers anymore.

Instead, they'd get cute reminders.

Others might not understand Webby's importance—

After all, the Imperium had long since stopped using full-scale data networks and artificial intelligence.

Many even feared or outright rejected them.

But Eden knew—

A benevolent deity over data and machinery could be a tremendous boon to humanity.

If nothing went wrong, the Mechanicus would develop a new branch of belief—ushering in a new Machine Spirit:

The Machine Goddess.

She would bring countless benefits to the tech-priests—far more effective than the elusive Omnissiah.

Her blessings could bolster the Imperium's mechanical systems.

Not far away—

The Emperor remained motionless, standing in the same pose—seemingly waiting for something.

Luckily, Eden and Webby quickly noticed.

They walked over to Him, sharing in their joy.

Seeing Webby approach, the Emperor's stern face relaxed into a faint smile. He patiently shared a few warnings and taboos regarding faith.

At the same time, He warned Eden—under no circumstance could Webby be exposed to excessive faith energy.

Not everyone could withstand the corrosive influence of belief.

Many twisted beings in the Warp were once benevolent, before infinite adoration and worship from their followers drove them into madness.

"Don't worry, I've got this."

Eden patted his chest and promised the Emperor he would protect Webby from the dangers of faith.

Both emotionally and strategically, he would never let her fall.

The mini-sun possessed the ability to devour faith—worst-case scenario, it could absorb Webby's faith energy instead.

He would bear the danger himself.

"Little one, if you ever face danger—you can always call for me..."

The Emperor left those words—then vanished into the void.

Maintaining such a physical form was a burden.

Especially after destroying Vashtorr and facing the Chaos Gods—He was worn out.

After He departed, Eden, with Webby now floating on his shoulder, headed for the Warp gate.

It was time to return and prepare for war.

From this battle, Eden deeply understood—

The Warp, an eternal realm of the soul, was not humanity's true battlefield.

It was merely a reflection of war. It could never truly decide victory or defeat.

If humanity wanted to survive, they had to win in realspace—in the galaxy's burning conflicts.

Otherwise, Chaos would feed on the endless death and suffering of realspace.

And grow even stronger.

Yes, the Chaos Gods were growing more powerful—and the speed of their growth was accelerating.

This was tied to the expansion of the Great Rift, and the widespread suffering and war.

If humanity could drive out the Chaos forces and xenos...

If there were no more large-scale wars, no more hunger, pain, and greed—

Then the power of the Chaos Gods would drastically weaken—maybe even disappear from the material universe.

And then...

They would be forever trapped in the Warp, rotting in isolation.

Of course, this grand dream was hard—very hard. It would take an immense struggle and countless years.

But at least now, Eden had a clear goal—something he could fight for.

Already, the Great Savior had liberated an entire sector—saving tens of trillions of lives.

Sparing them from suffering.

The Savior's march would continue beyond this sector—bringing salvation to more worlds and civilizations.

Eden's eyes were firm with resolve.

Vashtorr—the greatest Chaos arms dealer—was dead.

But soon, a new arms dealer would rise in the galaxy.

One whose terrifying war machines bore the insignia of the Savior—

And they would bring ruin to Chaos.

As the Warp rippled, two figures—one large, one small—faded from view.

Leaving behind the endless void.

The Warp, as always, was filled with eternal chaos and distortion—bathed in blood and horror.

Vashtorr, daemon technosmith and ruler of the Soul Forge—was dead.

But his influence lingered.

Many Chaotic entities had their eyes on Vashtorr.

And none mourned his death.

Instead, it ignited a fresh wave of celebration and war.

He had been the greatest arms dealer in the Warp—

His Soul Forges were scattered throughout its dark corners.

While he lived, few dared covet them.

But now he was dead—

That enormous inheritance drove Chaos factions into a frenzy.

In the depths of the Warp, Vashtorr's death-cry had not yet faded—

And already, Chaos forces were sniffing out the scent of those forges.

They dispatched warbands across twisted rifts to seize those Soul Forges for themselves—

To gain an endless supply of Chaos weapons.

Unfortunately for them, others were just as fast.

And so, one warband after another clashed near the forges.

They opened fire without hesitation, bombarding any rival that dared approach.

The Warp was set ablaze in brutal war.

But to the denizens of Chaos, this was just another ripple—hardly noteworthy.

For Chaos...

War and slaughter were eternal—just part of life. Like humans needing to eat. Nothing special.

BZZZZ—

A Chaos Terminator's power claw smashed apart an approaching Omen Hound.

It was a small daemon engine, a few meters long, bristling with vicious spikes.

Its abdomen housed a molten furnace linked to a giant maw—

Capable of spewing metal-melting magma.

ROAR—

From the heavy black mist, a dozen crimson glows lit up, followed by low, menacing growls.

More Omen Hounds appeared.

They were the patrol force of this factory—unauthorized beings were to be torn apart.

Soon, they found their fallen comrade and confirmed the killer.

The alarms howled.

The Omen Hounds charged the Chaos Terminators with savage fury.

Most enemies would fear these engines.

But they faced a squad of elite Terminators.

With the thunder of power weapons and explosive rounds, the hounds were dismembered—

The Chaos Terminators advanced through the wreckage.

But the alarms had alerted the Forge's defenders. Even more terrifying daemon engines emerged from the smoke.

One massive engine charged forward—its sheer size enough to crush invaders.

The Terminator showed no fear—he merely smiled:

"Crush them, boys."

BOOM—

A thunder hammer slammed down, flattening the daemon engine.

Molten fluid and steel flew everywhere.

The attack came from an even bigger war machine—

A Chaos Dreadnought.

It stomped on the engine's head and finished it off with a heat blast, then continued forward.

Behind the Terminator, more Chaos Dreadnoughts appeared.

This time, he'd brought overwhelming force—he was confident he'd claim this Forge for his Warlord.

Dreadnoughts and Terminators surged into the dark mist, wiping out guards at breakneck speed.

Blasts lit the gloom, screams echoed.

The Terminator stepped into the fog, and beyond the curtain—

He saw the vast, smoke-belching forge in the distance.

The Soul Forge—the prize the Chaos forces had long coveted.

On the ground, a mangled daemon technosmith wailed.

The Terminator grabbed him, ready to kill—

"Mercy, milord!"

The daemon technosmith pleaded in fear: "I'll serve you! You need my skills!"

The Terminator nodded and tossed him down: "Then lead the way. From now on, this place belongs to the great Raide—"

BOOM—

A massive metal foot came down, crushing the Terminator.

The shockwave sent the technosmith flying.

He lay on the ground, staring in horror at the towering figure—nearly nine meters tall.

A Chaos Knight.

But it wasn't over—more Chaos Knights emerged from the darkness.

They ignored the technosmith and butchered the raiders' warband.

Chainsword weapons tore Dreadnoughts in half.

One Knight crushed a Dreadnought's head, then finished it with a plasma beam—

And kept marching forward.

The technosmith saw the twisted twin-dagger crest on their armor. Memories surfaced.

He gasped:

"Korvax... the Raven House?! Have they fallen too?!"

The Raven House was a renowned knight family—famous throughout the Imperium.

Their number of Knight suits was unmatched.

Even worse—due to alliances, dozens of other houses served them loyally.

Their deployment strength was immense.

When they marched—thousands of Knights could form an unstoppable tide.

Like rolling thunder!

The Raven House's fall was a massive blow to the Imperium.

Now, they had a new name:

Korvax—the Dark Raven House.

But the technosmith's shock wasn't over—he saw something even more terrifying.

He ignored the killing and explosions around him—eyes fixed on the sky.

He unconsciously began chanting ancient spells.

An ancient being had arrived.

Chains hung with skulls descended from the black sky—

Through the mist, he glimpsed an unrivaled black daemon form.

Four monstrous horns.

Wings and body pierced by countless chains.

A pair of glowing blue eyes stared down at the Forge.

The technosmith was entranced—his chants growing more fevered.

All the spells pointed to one terrible demon—

The Dark Master—Be'lakor!

He was the first mortal elevated by Chaos, the first daemon prince shaped by all four gods.

His brilliance and power were unquestioned.

He spent most of his time slaughtering other Chaos Champions and Princes.

Even so, the Chaos Gods tolerated him.

As the Chosen of the Four, he couldn't be ignored.

Be'lakor was proud.

He had free will. He allowed no one to steal his spotlight.

So, anyone who drew attention in the Warp—

Became his target.

Like Vashtorr.

That fool dared to use the artifact "Discord Engine" to infiltrate the Webway—seeking the vaults of the Old Ones.

He wanted to use them to become the Fifth Chaos God.

How laughable.

Be'lakor intervened—and in a duel, seriously wounded Vashtorr.

Too bad the wretch escaped.

But now—Vashtorr was dead. Killed by others.

A bit disappointing.

Still, he had a new target—someone who'd drawn the attention of the Four Gods.

Be'lakor would never allow it.

Now that he controlled many Soul Forges, he was preparing for that person in realspace.

He knew that being had a domain there.

Now, Be'lakor had Chaos Knights, even Chaos Titans.

Combined with the Soul Forges, he could forge a massive Chaos army.

Ready for war in realspace.

He would seize territory—

And find that overhyped pretender.

Then annihilate him.

Be'lakor's fangs bared. His expression twisted in arrogance:

"Devourer of Daemons... prepare to face the wrath of the Dark Master!"

(End of Chapter)

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